


Hanging on the Telephone

by ninhursag



Series: Michael Guerin Week 2019 [2]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alien powers used for sex, Feelings, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Michael Guerin Loves Alex Manes, Michael Guerin Week 2019, Phone Sex, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 03:37:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20686868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninhursag/pseuds/ninhursag
Summary: Three times Michael and Alex communicated from a distance and one time they didn't have to.For Michael Guerin week day 2, distance





	Hanging on the Telephone

**Author's Note:**

> Michael has a filthy mouth but otherwise nothing to warn for.
> 
> Enjoy!

One

In the first months, Alex sends him postcards. They aren't signed and offer no return address, but they have lyrics on them in Alex's neat, careful print. 

I know it's sad but if the world were ending would you kiss me

Michael doesn't have a place to send anything back. He keeps his answers in a box, a complicated box with a locking mechanism he can only open with his powers.

**  
Two

"Hey, cowboy," Alex's voice, smooth and easy, comes in from across the screen. He's god alone knows where, classifiedsville, and Michael is bored as shit. 

They regard each other across distance and pixels. Michael's broken hand twitches, like a storm might be coming in. This communication is not exactly private, so he can't tell Alex what could be standing to attention at the sight of his pretty, irritable face.

"Hey, private," Michael responds instead with a half curled mouth, just drinking in Alex's annoyed eyebrows and the dark shape of his eyes. The soft, shaved dark hair and the beautiful lines of him. "How's the weather over there?"

Alex rolls his eyes. Michael wants to peel that air force t-shirt he's got on off his skin and see the lines of his chest. Alex always had muscle to him, but now… "Gotta live with it," he was saying. Cool, laconic, like maybe he was struggling to keep it easy too. "How's Roswell?"

Michael gives a half shrug that can't be expressive enough. "It's still standing." 

There is nothing else he knows how to say here, like this, not right then. 

Maybe later, if he got it out of his system. The thing that makes his spine tingle and his ruined hand ache. The thing that made him want to strip down and curl close.

"I'll be stateside in November," Alex offers.

Michael nods and smiles. "I'll still be standing," he returns.

"You shouldn't be," Alex tells him, too seriously. "There's a lot better places to be than fucking Roswell."

Michael's laugh breaks out of him. "Come and see me in fucking Roswell anyway." He lets the tilt of his chin and the crinkle of his eyes try to say, let me have you in Roswell and I'll make you come.

"November," Alex says. He's smiling like he's heard it loud and clear.

**  
Three 

Grad school is a trip and a half. Ortecho's old professor at UC Boulder knew an old classmate who was at Stanford who knew a guy who talked to Michael about physics and math on the phone for a few hours and then got on a plane.

It was so very Good Will Hunting and made Michael laugh. Humans were always gonna be weird as shit.

Palo Alto was lame, but the math was good and his shoe box apartment was a little bigger than the airstream.

Alex's voice on the phone while kicking back on the bed he'd indulged himself with was ok too.

"It's the middle of the night, asshole," Alex mutters, low and gravelly with sleep. 

Michael doesn't smoother his grin. "I was dreaming about your ass, sweetheart," he croons. "And since it wasn't here, I thought I'd tell you all about it instead of showing you."

There's a muffled, "fuck you," that Michael takes as an invitation.

"See I really wanna spread your legs and get my mouth on your dick, but your ass-- did you know, for every time I've licked you open, you never rode my face. Have you considered the geometry and the angle I could get at if you--"

"Fuck," Alex hisses, and there's a catch and a tremble in his tone.

Michael sighs happily and palms his already hard cock. "You wouldn't have to worry about falling, darling, because you know I can hold you up. I could fuck you with my tongue all morning. 

"Like I know, I know you can't come from just that easy. I could keep you going so long like that, just so fucking hard and nothing to fuck. That dick of yours all red and at attention for me. You'd be shaking and sweaty and I'd get you so wet, Alex, so open and ready."

There's an indrawn breath and Michael lets it curl around him, like fingers on skin.

"Can I fuck you, sweetheart, I wanna so bad?"

And Alex's pained laugh, "unless you've learned to-- um-- right. To use your tele-um-kinesis from state lines. Gonna. Have to. Wait."

Michael's hand stills on his cock. "Hmmmm  
…" He whispers consideringly. Sounds like a side project. 

***

And then

Interstellar communication is a lot better and easier than mid-2000s terrestrial satellite calls.

He can see Liz Ortecho's grinning face so clearly. His niece is in her lap and luckily the kid got Mama's good looks.

Kyle fucking Valenti is on one side of her and Michael's asshole brother Max on the other. Seriously, how do some people get all the luck?

Like himself.

"You should see it," Michael tells them. "Out here, the quiet, the stars."

And Max nods. "Isobel will come out with you next time, but I'm sure you know that," he says. "We-- we've got some thinking to do."

"But yes," Liz says. "We're in this." She smiles brighter. "How's Alex?"

Michael's answering grin is so wide. "Sleeping, but he'll want to call in a few hours. We were on planet for a while and he-- well I'll let him tell you."

When the call ends, he meanders over to the thin but weirdly comfortable pallet where Alex's sleeping body is tangled in a blanket. A kiss brushed across his forehead brings a smile to his face, but he doesn't stir.

Michael doesn't hesitate before crawling in beside him, sighing at the tickle of soft hair, the easy way Alex shifts in his sleep to accommodate him, like he was always supposed to be there.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Feedback feeds me and is motivating as hell :)
> 
> You can also find me as ninhursag at dreamwidth https://ninhursag.dreamwidth.org/ or ninswhimsy on Tumblr if you want to talk at me!


End file.
